


The Winchester Identity extras

by zubeneschamali



Series: The Bourne Trilogy [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Playlist, timestamps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:21:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22095541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zubeneschamali/pseuds/zubeneschamali
Summary: Extras from The Winchester Identity, AKA the timestamps I wrote before the next big story.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Series: The Bourne Trilogy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1614190
Comments: 65
Kudos: 93





	1. Playlist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here's the playlist that goes with The Winchester Identity. Mildly spoilery if you haven't read the fic yet.

**Book 1: Berlin  
**Chapter 1: Some Days Are Better Than Others (U2)  
** ** Some days you're quick, but most days you're speedy  
Some days you use more force than is necessary  
Some days just drop in on us  
Some days are better than others  
**Chapter 2: Pressure (Billy Joel)  
** You've only had to run so far, so good  
Now here you are with your faith and your Peter Pan advice  
You have no scars on your face  
And you cannot handle pressure  
**Chapter 3: Keep Yourself Alive (Queen)  
** Do you think you're better every day  
No, I just think I'm two steps nearer to my grave  
**Chapter 4: Exit (U2)  
** He went deeper into black, deeper into white  
Could see the stars shining like nails in the night  
**Chapter 5: Headlong (Queen)  
** It ain't no time to figure wrong from right  
'Cause reason's out the window better hold on tight  
**Chapter 6: Last Night On Earth (U2)  
** The more you take the less you feel  
The less you know the more you believe 

****

****

****

**Book 2: Oranienburg  
** **Chapter 1: Radio Nowhere (Bruce Springsteen)  
** I was spinnin' round a dead dial  
Just another lost number in a file  
**Chapter 2: The Stranger (Billy Joel)  
** Well we all have a face that we hide away forever  
And we take them out and show ourselves when everyone has gone  
**Chapter 3: Everything Had Changed (Barenaked Ladies)  
** On the path of life, I wish you well  
Divergent journeys, but we will meet again in Hell  
**Chapter 4: Under Pressure (Queen)  
** It's the terror of knowing what this world is about  
**Chapter 5: Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own (U2)  
** Tough, you think you've got the stuff  
You're telling me and anyone you're hard enough  
**Chapter 6: Drive (R.E.M.)  
** Smack, crack, bushwhacked  
Tie another one to the racks, baby

****

**Book 3: Amsterdam  
Chapter 1: Angels of the Silences (Counting Crows)  
** All my innocence is wasted on the dead and dreaming  
**Chapter 2: Zoo Station (U2)  
** I'm ready to duck, I'm ready to dive  
I'm ready to say I'm glad to be alive  
**Chapter 3: Try Not to Breathe (R.E.M.)  
** I will try not to worry you  
I have seen things that you will never see  
Leave it to memory, me  
Don't dare me to breathe  
**Chapter 4: Human Touch (Bruce Springsteen)  
** In the end what you don't surrender  
Well the world just strips away  
**Chapter 5: Circle Dream (10,000 Maniacs)  
** I dreamed of a circle, I dreamed of a circle round  
And in that circle was a maze, a terrible spiral to be lost in  
**Chapter 6: Dirty Day (U2)  
** You can't even remember  
What I'm trying to forget

****

**Interlude: Amsterdam-Barcelona  
Chapter 1: Around the Sun (R.E.M.)  
** Do I even dare to speak? - to dream? - believe?  
Give me a voice so strong I can question what I have seen  
**Chapter 2: Lovers in a Dangerous Time (Barenaked Ladies)  
** One minute you're waiting for the sky to fall  
The next you're dazzled by the beauty of it all  
**Chapter 3: All Because Of You (U2)  
** I'm not broke but you can see the cracks  
You can make me perfect again

****

**Book 4: Barcelona  
Chapter 1: Barcelona (Bacilos)  
** Y dicen las calles, de tu Barcelona  
Que la noche es nuestra  
Que la nit es nostra  
**Chapter 2: I'm On Fire (Bruce Springsteen)  
** At night I wake up with the sheets soaking wet  
And a freight train running through the middle of my head  
Only you can cool my desire  
**Chapter 3: Dónde Están Los Ladrones? (Shakira)  
** Dónde están los ladrones?  
Dónde está el asesino?  
**Chapter 4: Because the Night (10,000 Maniacs)  
** Come on now and try and understand  
The way I feel under your command  
**Chapter 5: Falling For the First Time (Barenaked Ladies)  
** Anyone plain can be lovely  
Anyone loved can be lost  
**Chapter 6: One Step Closer (U2)  
** I'm 'round the corner from anything that's real  
I'm across the road from hope  
I'm under a bridge in a riptide that's taken  
Everything I call my own  
**Chapter 7: Lonesome Day (Bruce Springsteen)  
** House is on fire, viper's in the grass  
A little revenge and this, too, shall pass

****

**Book 5: Washington, DC  
Chapter 1: Another Spin (Barenaked Ladies)  
** I wonder where have you been  
Will I see you again  
Give the globe another spin  
**Chapter 2: Wake Up Dead Man (U2)  
** Jesus, Jesus help me  
I'm alone in this world  
And a fucked-up world it is too  
**Chapter 3: Gone (U2)  
** You wanted to get somewhere so badly  
You had to lose yourself along the way  
**Chapter 4: Countin' On A Miracle (Bruce Springsteen)  
** We've got no fairytale ending  
In God's hands our fate is complete  
**Chapter 5: Wreck of the Day (Anna Nalick)  
** Desperately close to a coffin of hope  
I'd cheat destiny just to be near you  
**Chapter 6: Through the Dark (KT Tunstall)  
** Oh what is in store for me now? It's coming apart  
I know that it's true 'cause I'm feeling my way through the dark

****

**Epilogue  
Chapter 1: Lovers in a Dangerous Time (Barenaked Ladies) (reprise)  
** Nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight  
Got to kick at the darkness till it bleeds daylight  
**Chapter 2: If I Should Fall Behind (Bruce Springsteen)  
** Now everyone dreams of a love lasting and true  
But you and I know what this world can do  
So let's make our steps clear that the other may see  
I'll wait for you  
And if I should fall behind, wait for me


	2. Happiness Steps Up to Greet Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timestamp to "The Winchester Identity," set directly after the end of the story. Jensen and Jared have made their decision about what comes next…now they have to convince the powers that be to let them do it. Outsider POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from "Raindrops Keep Fallin' On My Head," from a certain movie. Thanks to kasman for beta reading.

Of all the agents on regular Witness Security detail, Tyler Ashford was the one who always came up with the nicknames. They usually couldn't refer to the people they were guarding by their real names, and although many of them would be taking on a new identity, that often hadn't been set yet. Still, he and his fellow agents had to have _something_ to call them, and for some reason, his brain was all too happy to oblige.

Like with the two guys he and his partner were currently watching, here in cold-as-hell Wisconsin. Tyler had no idea if they were criminals themselves or just hiding from someone, but apparently they were stuck in limbo between their former identities and the ones they had yet to assume.

It had taken less than half an hour of observing them for it to become obvious. Even if the older one's eyes were green, not blue, they could still pierce through you like an arrow, and the haircut only made it more appropriate. Then there was the tall guy whose disheveled hair and warm smile made him look like a harmless, six-foot-four puppy dog, but it was all too clear that there was steel underneath the friendly exterior. 

Throw in the homoerotic overtones, as Brenda would say, and you had a perfect fit.

Speaking of the devil, his partner was approaching the back door, her turn to walk the perimeter apparently completed. Tyler pushed away from the kitchen counter and went to let her in.

"Are Butch and Sundance okay?" she asked as she entered and locked the door behind her. "I saw them come in at a pretty fast clip a couple of hours ago."

In answer, he opened his wallet and handed over a crisp twenty-dollar bill.

Brenda snatched it with a grin. "Really?"

He nodded glumly. "The whole fucking morning. No pun intended." 

"Huh." She looked past him towards the hallway leading to the bedrooms. "You think they'd let me watch?"

"God, you're such a pervert," Tyler exclaimed. "It's bad enough that they're—" He broke off and shook his head.

"Come off it, Ashford." Brenda folded her arms over her chest. "Enough with the homophobia."

"I hate that word," he growled. "I'm not _afraid_ of them. It's just…" Tyler shrugged and made a face.

"Grow up," she replied, giving him a none-too-gentle shove as she moved past. "And you're out walking. See you after lunch." 

Tyler put it out of his mind as he went outside, concentrating on keeping alert for signs of anyone threatening the people he was protecting. He might not like what the two men were doing together, but it was still his responsibility to keep them safe, and he was damn good at doing that.

Later that evening, he was on the couch next to Brenda, good-naturedly arguing with her over the remote control, when someone cleared their throat behind the two of them. Tyler had his hand on his gun before he had finished leaping to his feet and whirling around.

Their two charges stood there, Sundance with a hand up as if to say, _Easy, it's just us._

Then Tyler noticed that his other hand was entangled with Butch's, down at their sides. Something of Tyler's dislike must have flashed across his face, for Sundance started to pull his hand away. When Butch wouldn't let go, the taller man shot him a warning look and got a mirror of it in response. He let out a huff of breath and turned back to Tyler, but their hands stayed locked together.

"What's up?" Brenda asked casually, her sharp brown eyes taking in everything the two men were saying without speaking. 

"We, uh, we have a compromise idea. On the security thing." Sundance squared his broad shoulders. "We decided that we're going to live in the same place. But you'll only need to make arrangements for one house."

Tyler's eyebrows shot up. "You're serious?"

"Absolutely," came Butch's firm response.

Tyler looked back and forth between them. For all he knew, considering how they'd been keeping their distance from each other the whole time they'd been here, this morning was the first time they'd…whatever…and that didn't seem like a good foundation for moving in together. Especially not in conjunction with taking on completely new identities, which was extremely stressful all by itself. He didn't want to be in charge of moving one of them to a different state in six weeks when it became apparent things weren't working out. "Look, I don't want to play relationship counselor here—"

"Then don't." Butch's eyes were hard as jade, a clear warning to _fuck off_ in their depths.

Tyler plowed on anyway. "I'm just not sure it's a good idea—"

Butch's voice was clear and sharp. "If you have a problem making arrangements for us—"

"He doesn't have a problem," Brenda broke in. "He's just being an ass." Her tone was friendly, but the look she shot Tyler clearly said, _Contradict me and my heel will be in your instep before you can blink._

Tyler swallowed. "We didn't plan for that particular scenario, is all," he said, keeping his eyes on his partner.

She beamed back at him. "But it should be easy to adapt what we do have." She turned towards the two men and gestured towards the dining room table. "Why don't you guys have a seat and we'll bring out the scenarios we've worked up, give you a chance to look them over and decide."

Tyler felt the glare from Butch as the two men moved away, and Brenda's expression darkened as soon as their charges were out of earshot. "How long have we been doing this job together?" she demanded in a low voice. "Five years?" 

He nodded silently.

"And you've _never_ tried to influence a witness's decision based on anything other than their safety." She leaned closer, brown eyes snapping. "We know nothing about how these two got here, and I know we're not supposed to care about anything other than their protection. But after moping around here for three weeks straight, now they look _happy_. And for all they've probably gone through, and all they're about to go through, they deserve whatever little piece of happiness they can find, and God bless 'em if it's with each other." 

Tyler looked over at the two men seated next to each other at the long dining room table, heads bent close as they murmured to each other. "Sorry if I'm being unprofessional," he muttered reluctantly.

Brenda poked his chest hard, waiting until he was looking back at her before going on. "It's more than that, Ashford. It's not about who you fuck. It's about who you love."

And with that she stalked away, gathering up the stack of file folders on the coffee table before striding towards the dining room.

Tyler waited a few minutes before joining them, taking a bathroom break and using the time to clear his head. His partner was right—he shouldn't be letting his personal discomfort get in the way of his job. He could be professional about this.

When he sat down, Brenda was finishing the standard speech to the two men about how the insertion into their new lives would go. Sundance was listening earnestly, his brows knitted in concentration and lines furrowing his broad forehead. Butch looked like he'd heard this before, and Tyler wondered, not for the first time, who these guys were and how they'd gotten to this point.

Then Brenda was spreading out the file folders on the table, giving a brief introduction to each of them. They were five wildly different lives, spread all over the country. He'd looked through them earlier and seen that each of them had a medical job of some sort for the tall guy and some kind of teaching or consulting work in foreign languages for Butch. His lips quirked up for a second as he pictured the man across the table teaching high school Spanish or French. He wouldn't tolerate kids giving him any shit, not with the glare he'd shot Tyler earlier.

"You got anything to add?" the object of his thoughts suddenly said, green eyes pinning him down.

Tyler cleared his throat. "No, she's covered it all. Take your time and look them over; they all fit within the parameters we received, but you might have other preferences that aren't reflected there."

He and Brenda watched as the two men flipped through the folders, looking through them separately but occasionally pointing something out to each other with a raised eyebrow or a quick grin or frown. At one point, Sundance looked up, brushing aside his too-long bangs, and asked, "What about housing? Do we get to pick something out, or is what's in the folder it?"

"We aren't real estate agents," Tyler replied levelly. This was inevitably a sticking point between WitSec and its guests. "It takes time to find a safehouse and get it secure, so what you see in those folders is what you get." 

"Hmm." Sundance closed the folder in front of him, "Outer Banks" written on the label, and pushed it aside. "Then cross that one off."

"But it's on the beach," Butch protested, his voice almost petulant.

"It's a one-bedroom cottage, J—" Sundance cut himself off before the name forming on his lips could be voiced. 

_Good job_ , Tyler thought, and the approving look on Butch's face said the same thing.

Sundance went on, "We need more space than that. I take up a lot of room, you know." He deliberately sprawled in the chair, arms and legs akimbo. "And then there's my—" He stopped and looked down. Then he went on more quietly, "Well, when I _have_ stuff again, it'll take up a lot of room, too."

Butch laid a hand on his forearm, his expression turning apologetic. "I'm sorry, man. You know that if I…" 

"I know." Sundance's reply was low.

"Yeah, but if I'd just—" Butch's tone was familiar to Tyler, the same self-recrimination that he'd heard dozens of times from himself and his fellow agents. If I’d just made the shot, if I _hadn't_ made the shot, if I'd been a little bit faster…

"Can we have a minute?" Sundance's voice cut through the room, more sharply than Tyler had heard the man speak before.

"Sure." Brenda rose to her feet and tugged Tyler after her. "We'll do the outside check for the night."

By the time they came back in, all doors and windows secure and the three other agents reporting that all was quiet, the two men were on their feet, pulling apart from an embrace. Their eyes were locked on each other, and Tyler was glad he'd missed whatever had just gone on in here. 

Then it dawned on Tyler as he looked back and forth between them that the expression on both of their faces was familiar. It took him a second to place it, but he soon realized was the same way he looked at his wife when a case had been especially hard and he needed her to help him get through it, or when one of her patients had died on the operating table and he held her while she cried it out. It was comfort sought and given, reliance and absolute trust all wrapped into one, and Brenda's words about it being about who you love came back to him with a vengeance. 

It was a reconciliation he'd heard through the thin walls this morning, not a hook-up, and Tyler suddenly thought that maybe there was a possibility he was being a moron.

Sundance cleared his throat and took a step back. He gestured at the file folders on the table and looked at Brenda. "Do you know if any of these places are particularly, well, friendly?"

She cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Are we gonna be the only ones flying the rainbow flag?" Butch asked bluntly.

"Oh!" She blinked. "I hadn't thought of that." Brenda spread the files out in front of her. "I don't really know, although I'm guessing the one in California's okay."

Tyler reached out and grabbed the folder corresponding to a Midwestern college town, taking a deep breath as he did so. "You don't want this one," he said, setting it aside.

"Why not?" Sundance asked.

"I grew up not too far away," Tyler replied. Then he met Butch's eyes, trying to look apologetic rather than defensive. "Outside of campus, people around there don't have much experience with diversity."

It must have worked, for the other man eyed him for a moment before giving him a short nod and turning back to the folders. "You sure this isn't too close to L.A.?" he asked, tapping the one labeled "Morro Bay, CA."

"It's like a whole different part of the state," Sundance said. "They wouldn't have approved it if it was too close." Then he looked up at Tyler. "Right?"

Tyler nodded. "Yeah. I mean, we didn't come up with these, but the guys who did used some pretty sophisticated algorithms that take into account the places they've been told to avoid and the frequency of connections between there and the possible settlement sites."

"Huh." Butch opened the folder and read over the papers for what was at least the third time, looking slightly frustrated as he did so. Tyler guessed that he wasn't used to putting his life in the hands of someone he'd never met, someone who was promising them that wherever they chose would be safe from whoever it was that wanted to harm them.

It was a damn big leap of faith.

"You think this'll work?" Butch finally asked, putting his hand over the paperwork and looking up at the tall man next to him.

Sundance looked back at him for a moment and then nodded, at first slowly and then more vigorously. "Yeah. Yeah, I think it'll be great."

"Awesome." The older man flipped the folder shut and pushed it across the table towards Tyler. "That's the one."

"You can think about it and decide in the morning," Brenda said.

"Nah, we're kinda good at making snap decisions," Butch said with a sideways glance at Sundance. 

A slow smile formed on Sundance's face, dimples making him look about half his age. Butch ducked his head as a grin crept across his own face, softening the lines of his features and putting creases at the corners of his eyes.

Tyler stared at them. Most people he saw in this job, especially at this stage of the game, looked one of three things: shell-shocked, freaked-out, or furious. Brenda was right: these guys looked happy.

His mouth twisted up ruefully. Who the hell was he to begrudge them that?

Before Tyler could stop himself, he spoke up. "As long as you've got each other, you'll be fine," he said. When they turned to him with identical, surprised expressions, he shrugged. "I've been doing this for a long time," he said. "I can tell. You guys are gonna be just fine."

Sundance recovered first, holding out his hand. "Thanks, Tyler," he said warmly. "For everything."

He shook the young man's hand, and then Butch's, whose eyes had a twinkle in them completely at odds with his earlier stony expression. "We'll try and keep it down so you don't have to turn up the TV so loud," he said with a wink.

"Jen!" Sundance burst out, elbowing the man next to him in the ribs, or maybe it was "Jim" or "John." Tyler deliberately didn't pay attention but just rolled his eyes. He'd rather be baited than threatened. "I appreciate it, Butch," he said.

And then he froze. _Whoops_.

One dark blond eyebrow rose in a perfect arch. "Excuse me?"

Brenda burst out into laughter. "Don't worry about it," she said, clapping Tyler on the shoulder. "He always gives people nicknames. Usually he doesn't blurt them out like that, though."

"Wait, if he's Butch, does that mean I'm…" The taller man trailed off with a hopeful grin on his face.

"Sundance, yes," Tyler admitted ruefully, feeling his cheeks flame.

"Awesome." Sundance bumped his companion's hip. "Robert Redford is so much hotter than Paul Newman."

"No way. Newman is _much_ cooler," Butch argued.

"Wanna bet?" Sundance pointed to the collection of DVDs next to the television. "I think I saw it in there earlier."

"Well, bring it on," Butch said, grabbing Sundance's hand and pulling him towards the sofa.

Tyler watched them for a moment, wishing he knew what their story was, wishing there was going to be some way of keeping track of them once they were established in California. But his job was over in three days, as soon as they left Wisconsin, and part of the deal was that he and his team were kept completely separate from the relocation folks.

Still, as he watched them settle into the couch and each other, he knew deep down that his earlier assessment was right. Wherever they ended up, Butch and Sundance were going to be just fine.


	3. Silent Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timestamp to The Winchester Identity. It's only a few weeks into their new life, and Jensen and Jared are having some trouble adjusting.

Jared woke from a dream where he was standing on the balcony of his apartment in LA, watching waves roll miles inland, erasing city blocks as they splashed up to his feet.

_Not too hard to guess what that's about_ , he thought as he rubbed his eyes. A few weeks into his new life in California with Jensen, and Jared hadn't yet gotten used to the constant low crash of the waves on the beach a few blocks away. He hadn't yet gotten used to a lot of things, truth be told, thus the dreams about his life being washed away.

Not that he was the only one. The bed beside him was empty, and Jared had the feeling it had been that way for a while. Jensen hadn't been sleeping well, the crash of returned memories too much for him to handle sometimes. Jared had no idea how to help him through it, but he had to try. 

Jensen was all he had right now.

He found Jensen in the same place he usually did, out on their small front porch. The ocean was visible at the end of their quiet street that sloped down to the sea, the dome-shaped Morro Rock looming in the background. At three in the morning, the town was completely silent, the tourists long since gone to bed and the fishermen not yet awake. Jensen was on the porch swing, looking down towards the ocean. His head turned at the creak of the front door, but then he looked away again.

Jared yawned and sat beside him in the swing. "Can't sleep?"

"Doesn't mean you can't." Jensen patted Jared's thigh. "Go back to sleep, man."

He ignored the command and studied Jensen's profile, lit by the glow of the streetlight. "You wanna talk about it?"

Jensen pressed his lips together. "You don't need to hear it."

Which didn't mean 'no,' Jared noted. It also meant something else. "You're thinking about him, aren't you? About Sam?"

That got him a quick look from under Jensen's brow, but nothing more.

Jared leaned back in the swing, setting it into a gentle rocking motion. It was odd to think that he could ask Jensen questions about his past and get answers now. Probably. There were still some holes in Jensen's memory, and it wasn't like he had to answer everything Jared asked. 

Jared had learned by now, though, that he didn't always have to ask. 

A moment passed, and then another, the slow creak of the swing the only sound. Then Jensen let out a breath. "I keep thinking about Marseille."

Jared nodded a few times. It had been one of the first things Jensen remembered, back when he thought he was Dean Winchester: Sam dying in a gunfight in the streets of Marseille. It wasn't surprising that his restored memory would latch onto that moment now that he could have it in full. "You remember it all?"

"It's more than that." Jensen rocked his heel against the porch so the swing continued to move. "When it happened, I didn't get it. By the time I could have understood, I wasn't thinking about him anymore except to get the Panther. So now it's the first time I've been able to think about it, and I can't stop."

Jared blinked. Maybe he was more tired than he had thought. "What do you mean?"

Jensen must have seen the confusion on his face. "Sorry." He rubbed a hand over his jaw. "We were being fired on, and Sam told me to run and that he'd cover me, and then he…" He trailed off.

Jared put a hand on Jensen's leg. He'd heard this before, but he couldn't imagine it was any easier for Jensen to tell it the second or the third time. "You said you didn't get it," he gently pushed. 

"Yeah." Jensen cleared his throat. "We were just messengers, not full-fledged field operatives. I didn't learn till later how to assess a situation like that, how to analyze where the gunfire was coming from and how to fight my way out." He shook his head. "Now, no matter how I look at it, I can see there _was_ no way out. And Sam knew it. He fuckin' kissed me goodbye and stood up in front of all those goddamn bullets. For _me_."

The raw pain in Jensen's voice was almost too much to take. Jared put an arm over Jensen's shoulders. "I'm sorry, Jen," he said softly.

"I joked about it once, that if we kept doing more and more with Ravenswood, we'd end up like Butch and Sundance." Jensen shook his head. "He didn't think it was funny. Never heard him shout at me like he did then. And then he fucking went and did it anyway. And you know what the bitch of it is?" He went on more quietly, "When I think about it, I can't say for sure that I'd've done the same for him."

Jared closed his eyes. In the distance, he could hear the gentle crash of the waves. "Yeah, you would have."

Jensen was still tense under Jared's arm. "You don't know that, Jay."

"Yeah, I do." Much of their time on the run in Europe might already be blurring in Jared's mind, but there were some things that were still crystal-clear. "When you saved me in Berlin. You thought I was him, remember? They'd beaten you, and shot you, and you weren't going for help, you were trying to save Sam. Me."

"I knew you weren't him." Jensen's mouth twisted in a frown. "I think I did."

"Then it's even more amazing that you'd do it for a stranger. Not someone you loved." Jared drew in a breath. "You told me once that I know you better than you know yourself. So trust me on this."

Jensen finally looked up at him. "Why does this matter to you so much?"

"Because it matters to you." 

Jensen's face crumpled. "You shouldn't even be here, Jay."

"Maybe not." He rubbed Jensen's shoulder with his thumb. "But I am. And I’m not going anywhere."

"You'd tell me, right?" Jensen's gaze bored into his. "Promise me you'd never leave without saying goodbye."

"Jensen." Jared blinked, the name he wasn't supposed to use anymore startled out of him by Jensen's sudden intensity. "Yeah," he said slowly. "Yeah, okay. I promise."

There was silence for a moment. Then Jensen let out a soft huff and looked away. "Guess this is what happens when I don't sleep and I don't have the adrenaline of running for my life to keep my brain functioning."

"Hey, it's okay." Jared pulled him closer, relishing his warmth in the cool night air. "You can return the favor the next time I can't sleep."

"Anytime," Jensen said. He pressed a kiss to Jared's jaw and then let himself be held as Jared kept rocking the swing, the regular creak in counterpoint to the distant sounds of the surf, the rest of the night silent around them.


	4. Looking Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ficlet set some time after the end of "The Winchester Identity." Jared contemplates one of Jensen's body parts. Written as a birthday present for kasman.

Jared's never been one to think of guys in terms of their component parts—as a hot ass or a handsome face or a great set of pecs. It's always been the whole package for him, the personality and the body and the mind all rolled into one.

Which is probably why he fell for the guy who kidnapped him from the inside out, fell for who Jensen was in his heart and his messed-up mind beneath the ridiculously gorgeous packaging. Not that he hadn't noticed how hot his traveling companion was—Jared wasn't blind—but it wasn't Jensen's eyes or lips or ass that brought them together that first time.

Still, at some point in the last month, now that they had the time to explore each other in more detail, Jared realized that maybe he would have had to revise that philosophy if he'd seen more of Jensen's bare back to start with.

Because now he was trying to figure out how to ask Jensen if they could get a mirror installed in the bedroom without sounding either kinky or narcissistic.

The problem was, most of the time he only got glimpses of Jensen's back when they were in bed (or in the shower or the kitchen or…). Jared's hands knew every inch of the smooth skin of that back, the way strong, rounded shoulders tapered down to a trim waist before flaring out slightly into a thoroughly gropeable ass. He'd clutched at the muscles of that back as it arched in a graceful bow while Jensen thrust deep into him, felt it slippery with sweat beneath his hands as Jensen rode him, legs clenched around Jared's straining thighs and their mouths locked together like they were breathing nothing but each other.

But Jensen wasn't comfortable with having someone close behind him that he couldn't see—even Jared, even now—and so they were always face to face. 

So instead, Jared laid awake in the mornings, drinking in the way the early light played over Jensen's supple skin, here and there highlighting a scar or imperfection whose story was still unknown to him. He watched curves of muscle tighten as Jensen came awake, shifting from relaxation to readiness in the blink of an eye. He stole as many glances as he could when Jensen padded around before breakfast without a shirt, drinking in the way muscles flexed as Jensen moved around the kitchen. He plotted out how to jump Jensen in the bathroom, where there was a countertop at just the right height and a nice expanse of mirror behind it, and every time he thought about it, he got hard.

And then Jared came home one day to find a full-length mirror mounted on the wall at the foot of the bed. 

When he turned to stare at Jensen with a mixture of astonishment and lust, the knowing look on Jensen's face told him he hadn't been very good at hiding his desires.

Somehow, Jared didn't mind being caught out.


	5. Somewhere Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timestamp to "The Winchester Identity," several months after the story. Jared and Jensen are finally in a safe place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does one have to warn for light bondage? Or is that more like an advertisement?
> 
> (Also, this makes me remember the good old days, when I could write 5K of PWP...thanks to kasman for the beta reading.)

It's been an adjustment—quite an adjustment—and Jared still has good days and bad days. A good day is when he remembers his name and doesn't get wound up in bitter resentment that it's not really his name. Outside their seaside cottage, they're Jacob Hanson and Jonathan Enfield, close enough to their original names that "Jay" still works as a nickname and "Jen" can be misheard as "Jon" if it slips out. Even in the house, they stick to nicknames out of habit, although mostly they don't call each other by name. It's too awkward, too much a reminder of what's been lost.

Another sign of a good day is the compilation of little looks Jensen's been shooting Jared all evening, the ones that have been steadily increasing Jared's blood pressure (at least in a certain part of his anatomy), to the point where an overly-innocent question about how tired Jared was resulted in him literally dragging Jensen into the bedroom.

Because here, in bed, they are still fully themselves. Maybe it's foolish, maybe it'll lead to a slip somewhere outside that they can't afford, or maybe it's deluding themselves that this is only temporary and that the powers that be will someday catch up with Raimundo Odilon and they will be free to be Jared and Jensen again. But by unspoken agreement, they can't be fully honest with each other when they're _together_ if they're hiding under other names.

But Jared's not thinking about anything so gloomy right now. He's lying on his back, naked body spread out across the mattress, watching as Jensen removes the last of his clothing and _slinks_ —there's really no other word for it—onto the bed. There's something in the air, something Jared can't describe any other way but _electric_ , and he's wondering what Jensen is thinking as he straddles Jared's chest with his powerful legs and bends down for a long, wet, heated kiss. Jared's hands roam over Jensen's skin as he eagerly returns the kiss, feeling the contours of muscle that have become as familiar as his own body after four months of their life together.

Jensen breaks the kiss with a tug of Jared's lower lip between his teeth, drawing back to look Jared in the eye. "Do you trust me?" 

Jared looks up at him, thinking that _Duh_ is too flippant and _With all that I am_ is far too cheesy to say out loud, even if it's true. So he settles for, "Yeah, of course."

"Then close your eyes," Jensen says with a smile that's an intriguing mixture of tender and wicked.

Jared looks at him for only a second longer before obeying.

He listens carefully as Jensen leans over to the nightstand and opens the drawer. That's interesting—whatever's going on, he's planned this and made preparations. A shiver of anticipation runs down Jared's spine. 

A hand gently lifts his head, and there's something wrapping across his eyes, cool and silky and dark, shutting out the light from the bedside lamp. Jensen ties the blindfold behind his head and lowers it back to the pillow. Jared startles at the brush of lips against his, but he chases Jensen's mouth back until he gets a proper kiss.

There's a pause. He can feel Jensen shifting his weight on the bed, but he can't tell what he's doing. In the distant background, he hears the rush of the waves that has become familiar here in their home on a hill overlooking the Pacific, and the peaceful, regular sound calms him.

But at the first whisper of silk on his left wrist, Jared's heart shoots up into his throat with anticipation and a wild kind of hope. He feels strong, capable hands wrapping the silk around his wrist and tying it securely in place, and his heart pounds faster.

When those same hands pull his arm upward, towards the head of the bed, he knows for sure what's going on, and he shudders out a breath that has a moan buried within it. 

Months ago and miles away, Jensen made him a promise that once they were somewhere safe, he would tie Jared up and have his way with him. Apparently, that time was now.

Jensen chuckles darkly from somewhere over him. "I take it that means you're on board with this?" he asks in a low tone as he finishes tying Jared's wrist to the headboard.

Jared tugs at his bound arm but can't move it more than an inch, and his hips involuntarily buck upwards at the feel of the restraint and the promise of more to come. "Oh, yeah," he breathes out, barely recognizing the raw voice as his. "I think you can safely say that."

"Good," Jensen practically purrs. His weight shifts to Jared's other side, and another length of soft material is wound around that wrist. By the time both arms are secured, Jared is already shifting his hips against the sheets, low sounds coming from his throat.

He had no idea that being tied down would turn him on so much.

Jensen's hands trail all the way down his sides, from wrists to underarms to ribcage to hips, then down the outsides of his thighs and over his calves. "So beautiful, Jared," comes his low baritone. "I love your body, you know. I love it when it's all tangled up with mine." There's soft fabric being wrapped around his ankle now, and Jared's back arches slightly upwards at the touch and the anticipation it brings. "I love seeing your hands on me, how strong they are. I love feeling all of your weight on top of me, pressing me down." The fabric is pulled tight, Jared's leg stretched towards the corner of the bed, and his dick must be pointing straight at the ceiling by now given how hard and throbbing it feels. 

When Jensen speaks again, the tenor of his voice has changed, gone deeper and darker. "But you may have also noticed that I like being in control." The bed shifts as he moves, and then Jared's other ankle is being fastened to the other bedpost. "I like being able to do any. thing. I. want. I think you like that, too, don't you?"

Jared feels hands on his lower legs, stroking gently before they move away, leaving him without any sensation but the feel of the silk around his wrists and ankles and the gentle stretch of his limbs in all four directions. Spread-eagled across the bed, he gives his bonds a good, hard tug, like he's sure Jensen is expecting him to. Nothing moves more than a fraction of an inch. He's not going anywhere unless Jensen releases him.

It's not a flashback, exactly, but for a second Jared feels panic flooding him instead of the arousal he's been drugged by up to his point. His breathing starts coming a little choppier as he realizes he really can't move. He lifts his head sharply off the pillow even though he can't see a damn thing, suddenly tense and afraid.

Instantly, Jensen is pulling aside the blindfold, kneeling beside him on the bed and looking down at him, green-gold eyes warm with concern. "Hey," he says softly. "You all right?"

Jared draws a deep breath, grounding himself in the safety that Jensen promises just by being there next to him. "Yeah," he says. Giving a slight grimace, he says, "Sorry."

"Don't you dare apologize." Jensen reaches out, one of his hands smoothing along Jared's arm, back and forth, while the other cups his cheek. "We don't have to do this right now, Jay. We don't ever have to do this." He bends down and kisses him, lingering and sweet. When he draws back, he says quietly, his hand still caressing Jared's face, "Let me tell you, I don't think this is something I could ever consent to."

"Really?" Jared asks, surprised.

"Really." Jensen presses a kiss to his forehead. "I think you're incredible for being willing to try it."

"I am willing, you know." Jared tries not to sound over-eager, but the twitch of Jensen's lips tells him he didn't quite make it. "But maybe without the blindfold? I can close my eyes instead."

"No problem." Jensen pulls it the rest of the way off and flings it over his shoulder. "You say the word, any time, and I'll untie you, okay?"

"Okay." Jared shifts around, getting used to the restriction on his movements and finding that the soft give of the fabric is cooling his earlier fear. "Um, do you have a safe word in mind?"

"It's up to you," Jensen replies, trailing his hand down Jared's chest, fingertips whisper soft against his skin.

He draws in a deep breath. "How about 'panther'?"

Jensen's eyes flicker to his. "Yeah, that'd be a mood killer," he drawls.

Jared smiles. "I don't expect to have to use it." 

"Good," Jensen says. He leans over until his face is inches away from Jared's. "Hope not, because I plan to make you feel so good you won't remember either one of your names."

"Big words," Jared teases, aware that the slight tremor to his voice is telegraphing loud and clear that he believes everything Jensen just said.

The knowing look on Jensen's face says he got the message, but he simply sits back on his heels and starts running his hands over Jared's chest, warm and reassuring. Jared relaxes into the touch, twitching now and again when Jensen's fingers encounter a particularly sensitive spot, eventually calming enough to close his eyes.

As soon as he does so, the tenor of the touches starts to change. They're lighter, more teasing, reaching further down towards his abdomen and farther up towards his neck, taking in more of his body. A fingertip brushes across a nipple, and then it's being rubbed between two fingers. Jared lets out a small noise and tilts his head back, feeling his arms imprisoned above his head, but this time relishing the sensation.

Then instead of fingers, he feels Jensen's tongue, just the tip, teasing at the already-hardened nipple as warm breath ghosts across his skin. He writhes a little, moaning encouragingly. Jensen murmurs, "Mm-hmm," against his chest, and Jared starts to feel as if he's floating away on pleasure and sensation.

He has no idea how long it takes, but Jensen works over every inch of his body, stroking and caressing and kissing, always gentle and secure and always with some part of him touching Jared, never leaving him alone. With his eyes still closed, Jared enjoys the heightened sensations of touch and smell and sound, the latter mostly coming from his own mouth. He's turned on, there's no doubt about that, but it's more like a pleasant buzz than urgent arousal.

So when he first feels that same slow, careful touch on his cock, it's like a jolt of electricity. His back arches, pulling his limbs in, and he feels the tug on all four of his restraints. It sets a fire burning in him, a slow, steady flame, and the only way he can get relief is by rolling his hips up and seeking more friction. 

But Jensen's touches stay oh-so-light, fingers only brushing against his sensitive skin as they move up and down his shaft. Jared thrusts his hips up more deliberately, trying to make a point. 

In response, he gets a forearm across his abdomen with enough weight behind it that he can't buck upwards like he needs to, and he lets out a frustrated groan that evokes a low laugh from Jensen. He feels the breath from the laugh over the moist tip of his cock, and the thought of how close Jensen's mouth must be causes him to hitch in a breath. "Please," he gasps out.

"Please what?" Jensen's voice is like dark honey, rich and warm, but there's an undercurrent of arousal that reveals he's enjoying this as much as Jared is.

That makes Jared relax a little, knowing that he's having an effect on Jensen even if he's not doing anything but squirming around and moaning. He draws in a breath and retorts, "Please put that mouth of yours to better use than laughing at me."

"Now that's the submissive Jared I know and love," Jensen teases, and before Jared can reply, there's warm, delicious heat engulfing him all the way down.

He cries out at the overwhelming sensation and his eyes fly open. When he sees Jensen's perfect mouth stretched around his cock so far down that there's dark brown curls of hair brushing his lips, Jared jerks forward so hard that he'd be jack-knifing in place if he wasn't tied to the bed. The tug of the silk bonds around his wrists and ankles only amplifies the pleasure that's rushing over him like a wildfire. 

Jensen flicks his gaze up towards him at the aborted motion, and when he sees Jared's eyes open, the heat that's already there multiplies until his green eyes are practically glowing. He pulls off slowly, tongue pressing a hot line up the underside and pausing to tease and suck at the head, eyes never leaving Jared's. 

Staring back in dazed lust, Jared can't _move_ , can't do anything to relieve the pressure building inside of him, between the arm holding down his middle and the bindings on his limbs. "Jen, you gotta stop," he manages to gasp out, "or I'm gonna…" He trails off into a low, jagged moan as Jensen takes his balls in his free hand and carefully rolls them around.

"Let it out, Jay," Jensen murmurs, low and soothing. "Let it go." Then he lowers his head again and slides his mouth down until Jared feels throat muscles moving as Jensen swallows him down.

And that's it. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

Jensen feels the warm, thick jet hit the back of his throat and eagerly swallows, milking Jared with his mouth until he's only weakly thrusting against Jensen's grip. He pulls off slowly, bathing Jared's cock with his tongue, licking his lips when he's finished and feeling his own desire pulsing hard and bright at the taste. 

Jared's panting like he just finished a five-mile run, and Jensen runs soothing hands over his flanks before shifting to one side, pillowing his head on a muscular thigh and looking up. Jared's eyes are still closed, mouth wide open, and Jensen grins to himself. He looks at those wide pink lips and shifts a little. If he hadn't taken his time in the shower earlier, he'd have gone off into the sheets the second Jared came in his mouth. As it is, he's uncomfortably close already.

"Shit," Jared finally breathes out, lifting his head to look down at Jensen. "Now I know why they call it the little death."

Jensen grins before leaning out and licking along Jared's softening cock, drawing a squirm from the body beneath him. "Everything all right up there?" he drawls.

"Oh, yeah," comes the contented response. Jared's head lolls to the side, and he looks so gorgeous and spent that it's Jensen's turn to squirm where he's lying.

But that's not going to be the end of it. 

Jensen waits a few minutes more before rising to his knees and reaching back, untying the binding on Jared's left ankle from the bedpost. He barely has it loose when Jared's pulling his leg back, planting his foot near the edge of the bed and tilting his knee outward, offering himself open to Jensen's gaze.

Jensen stares at him for a moment, the other end of the black silk still in his hands. Jared grins cheekily. "I didn't think you went through all this effort just to get me off and then call it a day."

"Uh huh." He brushes the end of the fabric across Jared's exposed inner thigh, making him squirm. "And what else did you think I had in mind?"

The tip of Jared's tongue pokes out to wet his lips, and he stretches his arms, muscles visibly straining against their bonds. Jensen knows he's doing it to tease him, but the sight of those powerful arms securely tied down has a strong effect on him nonetheless. "I was kinda hoping it involved something like me being fucked through the mattress."

"Oh, yeah?" Jensen trails the silk across Jared's groin, noticing how he's starting to harden again at the brush of the fabric. He concentrates on what's he's doing to stave off his own arousal, and at the first ragged inhale from the head of the bed, he gives a pleased smirk.

Then he climbs off the bed, taking the end of the binding and tying it down to the slats underneath the bed. He unties Jared's other ankle and pushes his leg up into position, fastening that one down as well. When he's done, he looks over his handiwork. 

Jared's legs are secured wide open, his arms still bound over his head. His relaxed afterglow has been replaced with the heat of arousal, his cock again rising up and flushed red.

Jensen can't help it—he has to start stroking himself at the incredible sight in front of him. A relieved moan escapes his lips as his head rolls back.

"No." Jared's voice is low and commanding. "No touching yourself, Jensen."

He removes his hand automatically, and it doesn't occur to him for a few seconds that he's supposed to be the one in charge. When he looks down at Jared, he expects to see a smirk on his face, but instead his eyes are intently focused on Jensen's cock, breath coming fast through his parted lips. "That's for me," he says in almost a growl.

"Yeah," Jensen replies, only a slight tremor in his voice. He crawls back onto the bed, positioning himself between Jared's legs, running his fingers lightly up and down the spread thighs on either side of him. "All for you," he echoes.

He takes his time working Jared open, first running a finger around his rim over and over until the moans and entreaties coming from the head of the bed get to be too much. Then he reaches for the lube he'd pulled out of the nightstand along with the silk restraints. He pauses to grab one of the spare pillows from the head of the bed, Jared willingly lifting his hips to have it slid beneath him. It must be awkward for Jared not to be able to move his legs, folded up as they are, but he doesn't seem to mind.

Actually, "not minding" would be an understatement, given the whimpers and mewls he's making as Jensen works his way inside him. When Jensen's two fingers find the small bundle of nerves he's looking for, the noises turn into an open-mouth gasp, a cry of, "Jen!" that Jensen knows from experience means Jared's going to start demanding something more any second now. 

Before that can happen, Jensen rolls on a condom, slicks himself up, and moves forward, teasing the stretched opening in front of him with the head of his cock. "God, Jay," he groans. "You ready?"

"More than," comes the panted response, and Jensen knows that Jared would be sliding forward to impale himself if he could get any leverage. But tied up the way he is, he can only wait for Jensen to move, and that knowledge makes him even harder and more eager.

He slides in in one smooth move, pushing steadily forward, until he's gone as far as he can go. Jared's eyes widen before closing as his head falls back, hips shifting underneath Jensen. "Yeah," he breathes out. "Been wanting this all day."

"Yeah?" Jensen asks, withdrawing slowly before snapping his hips back in. Jared grunts in response, and Jensen can tell he hasn't hit the right spot yet, so he leans forward, forearms braced on either side of Jared's sweat-sheened torso, and tries again. 

Jared's eyes fly open, whether from the press of Jensen's stomach muscles against his hard cock or the interior pressure, Jensen can't tell. Jensen strains his head forward and captures Jared's mouth, giving it a thorough tongue-fuck as his cock repeats the motion down below. 

Jensen's so close already, but he doesn't want to end this too soon. It's not just the physical sensations—Jared's tight warmth around him, his sweat-soaked skin sliding against Jensen's, the little sounds both of them make as he moves back and forth. It's the intimacy of being so close like this, sharing absolutely everything of themselves with each other, that he can't get enough of. It's the lustful fire in Jared's eyes looking back into his, but it's also the trust and love he can see there, the sheer wonder at being so completely _together_. Jensen could do this all night, thrust slowly into him and memorize every expression that flickers across his beautiful face.

But Jared apparently has other ideas.

"I bet you been thinking about it all day, too, Jen." Jared's eyes are fever-bright, his voice slightly ragged as he goes on, "Haven't you? Thinking about how you were going to tie me down and keep me from moving while you touched me." He runs his tongue over his upper lip slowly, deliberately. "Was it as hot as you expected? Because, God, I had no idea. Soon as you started tying me up, I thought I was going to come right then and there. _So hot_ , Jen. Been wanting it for _so_ long."

Jensen grinds down against him, the words sparking something deep within him that changes the movement of his hips from slow and lazy to rhythmic and driving. "Have you?" he grunts out, bending lower so Jared's cock is trapped more firmly between their shifting bodies.

"Yeah. Bet you have, too." Jared's eyes are dark and knowing, and if Jensen could spare the brain cells, he'd wonder how this man got to know practically every thought that goes on in his head. "Betcha spent all day thinking about what I was gonna look like all laid out for you. More'n today, probably all week. What it would feel like to fill me up and pound into me when all I can do is lie here 'n take it."

"Jesus, Jay!" Jensen bursts out, his hips snapping forward faster than before. The one piece of Texas they both can never lose is the accent that slips out when they're tired or not paying attention—or when they're deliberately using it to good effect on the other. Jared is playing it for all he's worth, long vowels and honey-sweet drawl amplifying the inexorable desire that's about to take Jensen over the edge.

"It feels damn good from down here," Jared goes on, the smoky tone of his voice unchanging. "Feels so good to have you in me, on top of me, all around me. Like there's nothin' in the world but you and what you're doin' to me." He shudders slightly as Jensen thrusts in, his aim apparently getting better. "Yeah, like that," he breathes out. "Fuck, Jen, you planned this out all day, didn't you? Wanted to feel me all helpless under you and give it to me so hard, so good."

"Shut up," Jensen growls, diving down and claiming Jared's mouth with his before the flow of words makes this any quicker than it's already going to be.

Jared's lips and tongue keep moving against his, still making and fulfilling dirty promises even if they're no longer with words. Jensen keeps one forearm planted on the bed to keep his balance, and the other reaches between their bodies to grab Jared's cock and start giving it long, hard strokes in time with his own thrusts. He swallows the moan that tries to burst forth from Jared's mouth, grunting back in response as he pumps harder, faster, letting himself go completely. 

It's Jared sucking Jensen's lower lip into his mouth that pushes him over the edge, tongue and teeth against his swollen flesh timed with the clench of Jared's body around him. His yell is muffled by Jared's mouth, his entire body shuddering as he comes. His hand tightens around Jared and draws forth a loud groan that dissolves into a growled, "Jen!", and then Jared is bucking underneath him and spilling out onto their sweat-damp skin.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

A little while later, Jared's still on his back, his arms and legs free but wrapped around Jensen, who's draped across him in a way that might be squashing his ribcage if he wasn't pretty much melting into the mattress right about now. Jared's eyes are closed, and he's breathing in the sour musk of their mingled scents in the dark of the bedroom.

"Can you tell me somethin', Jay?"

Without moving, he grunts inquiringly in response.

He hears a soft chuckle from the vicinity of his shoulder and cracks an eye open to see Jensen's head tilted up towards his. "I guess not if it involves higher-level thinking skills, huh?"

"Take it as a compliment," he mutters, running one hand slowly up and down Jensen's back. There's the tackiness of sweat beneath his fingertips, and he's pleased at the proof that he made Jensen work for it, too.

Jensen pauses for a second and then lifts his head. In the dim glow of the streetlight leaking in around the drawn curtains, curiosity is barely discernible in his eyes. "Why do you like it so much?"

Jared's eyebrows shoot up as he lifts his head off the pillow. "Sex?" he asks incredulously. _And he thinks I'm the one whose brain is firing too slow?_

"No, dumbass." Jensen swats his chest. "Being tied up."

"Oh." Jared drops his head back down. "I dunno."

"Seriously, what is it?" Jensen shifts his position a little, and suddenly Jared's looking up into his face from a few inches away. "I mean, like I said, I don't think I could ever do it, much less get off on it. But you were…" He trailed off and dipped his head, capturing Jared's lips in a long, thorough kiss. "Obviously enjoying yourself."

"Mm-hmm," Jared agrees. He shrugs. "I never really thought about it." He looks up at Jensen. "How about you? You said you like it when I'm on top of you, right?"

"I thought you were too far gone to be paying attention to a word I said," Jensen teases. He shifts his position so he's straddling Jared, one knee on either side of his hips, most of his weight on his elbows and knees but with his chest still pressed full-length against Jared's.

"I always pay attention when it involves ways to turn you on," Jared fires back, reaching down to run his thumb down the crease of Jensen's ass while the rest of his hand completely covers one firm buttock and squeezes it.

Jensen shivers at the touch. "Smartass," he retorts. Then he folds his arms over Jared's chest and props his chin on them. "I don't know, it's like…like all I can sense is you. Like you're all around me, and all I can feel and touch and hear is you. 'S pretty hot."

"Don't forget taste," Jared says, darting his head forward to lick a stripe up Jensen's cheek, stubble briefly making his tongue burn.

"Oh, my God, you're getting yourself confused with the dog again," Jensen says, wiping his cheek on Jared's shoulder.

He snorts out a laugh and pulls Jensen close, tucking his head under his chin. Then he lies there, thinking about the sensation of the soft silk around his wrists and ankles, the feeling of being restrained while Jensen's hands and mouth move over him, and he's only half-surprised to feel his cock stirring to life in response.

"Guess you're thinking about it now," Jensen teases, shifting his weight so that Jared's half-erection is pressing into his thigh.

"Damn it, now I'm horny again," Jared mutters.

"Oh no, whatever will we do about that," Jensen replies, his voice full of mock concern. 

This time, he pinches Jensen's ass in retaliation, and the yelp he gets in reply makes him grin. "Maybe I'm lazy," Jared says teasingly. "I can lie back and let you get both of us off." 

"Yeah, that figures," Jensen mutters, and Jared can't help but drag him forward for a kiss.

When their lips part, he holds Jensen there for a moment, too close to look at him directly. "It's not being lazy," he says, suddenly more serious. "It's more like…like I can give everything to you, all of me, and it's only going to be good. Whatever you decide to do with me…it'll be good. 'Cause it's you."

Jensen pulls back enough to look into his eyes, and Jared returns the gaze openly, honestly. His vision has adjusted to the low light, and he can see the play of colors in the depths of Jensen's eyes as they roam over his face. After a moment, Jensen puts his hand over Jared's heart. "I don't want you to think that I don't trust you the same way," he says quietly. "Because I do, Jay. I really do. It's just…"

"I understand." Jared's hands roam over Jensen's bare back. "I do. This was fine, but you try plastic ties, or you tie my hands together, and it won't end well."

Jensen's gaze darkens, and he leans down, kissing Jared hard, as if he could wipe away the bad memories Jared's referring to. When they break for air, Jensen resumes his position with his head nestled under Jared's chin, and Jared drops a kiss onto the crown of his head.

Then he closes his eyes and falls asleep to the rhythm of his lover's breaths.


	6. Night Watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timestamp to The Winchester Identity, six months after that story ends. Jared wakes from a nightmare and needs Jensen to help him.

It's been six months now that they've been living on the California coast, seven months since "Dean Winchester" died in a shootout with the Panther and Jared Padalecki officially died along with him. Six months of moving on and using new names and building new lives, or at least trying to.

Jensen still wakes up instantly at the slightest disturbance.

He's calmed down in other ways, stopped reaching for a gun or moving into a defensive position when something startles him. His fellow instructors at Cal Poly think he was in Afghanistan or Iraq, given his vague comments about traveling the world and the insane number of languages he knows. It's as good an explanation as any other, and the whispers have died down as he's grown more secure in this new place, less prone to overly-quick reactions.

But in the middle of the night, even with the doors and windows locked and double-checked, even with the gun in the nightstand that Jared doesn't know about, it takes only the slightest sound for him to jerk awake, heart pounding and adrenaline thrumming.

Lately, it's been happening more often. Not because he's more sensitive, but because Jared's been having nightmares. Jensen's own bad dreams faded after a few months, recovered memories and remembered trauma eventually settling into one tangled if stable knot. Jared was there for him through the whole thing, reassuring him that they were together and safe, and that whatever he was remembering was in the past and couldn't hurt him.

Now, apparently it's his turn.

Jared's sitting up, the sheet pooled around his waist, head bowed. He draws one deep breath and then another. The moonlight coming in between the curtains shows the dark, sweaty hair at the nape of his neck, and Jensen's gut clenches in sympathy. 

He shifts his legs to give Jared some audible warning and then brings a hand up to rest on his back. The skin is warm as always, lightly sheened with sweat. "Hey," he says softly.

Jared's shoulder blades twitch under his palm. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you up."

"S'okay." Jensen sits up and rubs Jared's back soothingly. "You all right?"

"Yeah." It's short, dismissive, and completely untrue. "'M fine."

"Okay." Jensen doesn't know how to call him on it, but he doesn't want to let it go, either. There's silence for a moment, Jared's breaths now calm and regular. "You, uh, you need some help getting back to sleep?"

"Nah, I think I'll just get up early."

Jensen looks at the clock and sees a four as the leading digit, the rest hidden by Jared's broad shoulders. "Kinda early to go running."

"Not sure I'll fall asleep," Jared shrugs.

Jensen's free hand creeps under the covers to rest on Jared's strong thigh. "I could help with that."

"Nah, it's okay." But Jared doesn't move.

Jensen curls his fingers in, brushing through sparse hair. "I can make you forget all about it," he murmurs. "Make you feel good."

Jared shifts slightly, and Jensen thinks he can see part of the sheet starting to rise. "You don't have to," he says, but it's not the flat refusal of before. It's an unwillingness to accept help even when it comes wrapped in affection, something Jensen remembers hearing enough times in Sam's voice that it's impossible to mistake. It's breaking his heart to hear it from Jared.

"I know," Jensen reassures him. "Lie down, okay?"

Jared hesitates for only a breath before obeying, lying on his back with his arms at his sides. Jensen nudges at him until he rolls onto his side, facing away, and then he spoons up behind him. Jared might be taller, but if he slides down far enough, their legs are nestled together, Jared's ass firmly in his groin, and if Jensen's face is only at the level of Jared's shoulder blades, that's okay.

He starts slow and easy, curling his fingers through the wiry hair between Jared's legs, getting him to relax and lean back. He worms his other arm underneath Jared and strokes across his chest, waiting until Jared's breath has slowed before zeroing in on a nipple and rubbing it between his fingers. Jared makes a soft noise and arches back against him, his leg draping over both of Jensen's as he opens himself up and puts himself in Jensen's hands.

It doesn't take nearly as long as Jensen would like, given that he's enjoying every little moan and writhe that Jared makes, the way his eyes scrunch up and his muscles tighten as waves of arousal roll through him. Jensen's hard himself, especially given the way Jared's ass is moving against him, but this isn't about him, not at all. There'll be time later to take his turn. Right now, this is all about Jared, about stroking him in an ever-faster rhythm, kissing his back and holding him close and making him feel nothing but pleasure.

It's almost gentle when Jared comes, a stuttering cry escaping his wide-open mouth as he pulses in Jensen's hand. Jensen strokes him through it and then carefully wipes him off along with his own hand. He feels the pulse beating fast through Jared's body, gently turns him over and put his hand over his thumping heart.

"Thanks," Jared murmurs sleepily, visibly relaxing into the sheets. "You wanna…?"

"I'm good," Jensen replies, brushing a kiss over his forehead. He can't resist pressing his lips to Jared's, drawing forth a soft noise and a half-hearted response that makes him smile. "Sleep now, Jay."

"'M'kay." His eyes flutter shut.

Jensen props his head up on one hand and watches Jared go out like a light. Jared hasn't been sleeping well, and he wished he knew why, what was triggering these nightmares. As stubborn as he's been himself about refusing to see a therapist, he can hardly insist that Jared do it. But as enjoyable as it may be to use this particular method to help Jared get to sleep, they can't really do it every night. Something's going to have to give.

Lying down, Jensen puts his hand over Jared's heart and closes his eyes. Maybe he can't keep the nightmares away, but guarding his lover like this, at least he can try.


	7. Aging in Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Future!fic in The Winchester Identity 'verse: Jensen's celebrating an important birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor spoilers for as-yet-unfinished sequels. Last timestamp before The Winchester Supremacy begins...

"Uncle Jensen, are you old?"

Caught by surprise, Jensen gaped at the small boy standing next to his lawn chair. Behind him, he could hear Jared snort with suppressed laughter. 

"Stevie, honey, that's not a polite question." Megan dropped her hands on her son's shoulders. "Sorry, Jensen, he should know his manners better than that."

"No, it's okay," he said, leaning forward. "What makes you ask that, Steve?" 

The towheaded boy shrugged one shoulder in that way that children had of pretending they didn't know something when in truth they didn't want to say it out loud. "I dunno."

Jensen pursed his lips and tried again. "Did Uncle Jared say something?"

"Hey!" Jared burst out, and it was Jensen's turn to hold back a smirk as Steve nodded his head. "He said we're having a party because you're fifty today, and that's old."

"I said old _er_ , not old," Jared clarified. He eased himself down into the lounge chair beside Jensen, straightening out his bad leg and leaning his ebony cane against the arm of the chair. "There's a difference, Stevie."

"I guess," the boy shrugged. Then he looked at Jared. "But are you old, too, Uncle Jared? You have a cane." 

"Stevie," Megan chided, squeezing his shoulders. "Is it nice to ask people why they look different than you?"

"No, mama," he said, hanging his head. "I'm sorry, Uncle Jared."

"It's alright, little guy," Jared said with a pat to his small shoulder. "A long time ago, before you were born, I got hurt, and the doctors couldn't fix me all the way." His gaze briefly flickered to Jensen. "But it doesn't hurt."

Jensen swallowed back the guilt and fear that rose up every time one of them mentioned the lingering effects of what the Panther had done to Jared in their final confrontation, even all these years later, even when he knew that an unreliable leg was a small price to pay. Jared was watching him with concern and reassurance in his eyes, and Jensen gave him a quick smile before clearing his throat and leaning forward. "Now, you see my dad over there?" he asked Steve, pointing at a white-haired man tending the barbecue grill on the back deck. "He's seventy-four. That's _old_."

"I heard that!" Alan called back, turning and brandishing his spatula in the air. "Careful, young man, or these shaky old hands might dump your burger on the ground!"

Jensen grinned at him. It had taken a few years for him and his parents to grow comfortable with one another after starting to talk again, but now the teasing and ribbing were as common as he remembered from being a kid.

"Dinner will be ready soon," Megan said, pointing her son in the direction of the back door. "Let's go wash up, okay?"

Jensen watched Jared follow them with his eyes as they left, warmed as always by the fond light in his husband's eyes as he watched his family. "How're you doing?" he asked, reaching across the space between their chairs to take Jared's hand. He'd been on his feet a lot today, getting ready for the party and greeting their guests, and even a doctor didn't always know when to take it easy. _Especially_ a doctor, when it came down to it.

"I'm awesome." Jared beamed at him. "Sometimes, I still can't believe we have all this, you know?" He waved a hand around to indicate their backyard and their respective families and friends, talking together in the waning light of a Texas spring evening. 

"I know," Jensen agreed. "I thought for a while that I'd never see thirty-five, and now here I am." He raised his eyebrows at Jared. "Old."

Jared grinned unrepentantly, dimples and all. "C'mere, old man," he said, tugging Jensen towards him.

Jensen leaned over and captured his mouth in a kiss as heated as he could make it considering the family members nearby. He kept his hands to himself, but he sucked on Jared's lower lip, running his tongue along it until it drew forth a quiet moan that had him smiling in triumph. "I prefer the term 'experienced,'" he said with a sly grin as he drew back, stroking Jared's fingers briefly before giving his hand a squeeze.

"Mmm," Jared replied. "Gonna share some of that experience with me later?"

"I thought it was _my_ birthday," Jensen pouted. "Why do I have to do all of the work?"

"I’m sorry, I didn't realize it took that much effort for you." Jared widened his eyes in mock concern. "Should I be writing a prescription for some blue pills?"

"Shut up," Jensen retorted, slugging his shoulder. 

Jared threw back his head and cackled, loud and long. "You love me," he said when he was done.

"Yeah, I do," Jensen agreed, leaning over for another kiss. "C'mon, Mr. Ackles-Padalecki. Time to see how bad my dad's burned the burgers this time."

"If it's not blackened, it's not a real hamburger," Jared argued, grabbing his cane and smoothly rising to his feet.

"Some people have no taste," Jensen grumbled, taking Jared's free hand as they strolled across the lawn.

"No kidding," Jared agreed, rubbing his finger over Jensen's wedding band. He lowered his voice. "Now that you're old, you know, I might have to upgrade to a younger model."

Under his breath, Jensen answered, "I still know a dozen different ways to kill you with my bare hands."

Jared snorted. "I'd prefer a little death."

"If you're good," Jensen agreed, his expression bland as they approached their family on the deck. 

Jared knocked their shoulders together, and Jensen smiled up at him. They might both have a handful of white hairs at their temples, and their bodies might not move as smoothly as they used to, but growing old together was something Jensen was never going to take for granted.


End file.
